Loveliness
by theevilestgeekofall
Summary: Jonathon and Timothy love. To be finished soon.
1. Chapter 1

Jonathon casually slid off his earbuds, listening intently to…

Singing. The singing called to him, like some muted, wonderful mermaid.

With a carefulness he peeked through the doors, to see a familiar tuft of disheveled, brown hair.

His heart broke or soared: Timothy.

For some time now Jonathon felt thick stirrings within for the boy. He realized it one English class afternoon; this clarity of feeling dawned on him upon seeing Timothy, brow furrowed, in earnest concentration over whatever he was writing. He blushed, smiled, and he knew.

Timothy…had this aching beauty about him.

Jonathon had known that he was attracted to boys physically…but Timothy was the first boy he'd ever actually had a crush on. He had started going out with Becky before these feelings for Timothy…

And somehow, he just felt a strain to keep up with appearances. Becky was a nice, pretty girl. She didn't deserve heartbreak…

But oh, if he could have Timothy…(that singing, that melodic voice drifted over his thoughts)

Jonathon shook his head. Pain soared within him, but so be it.

He didn't have the courage Timothy had. To be…himself.

"Hey…" He caught Timothy after the auditions. "Great pipes," he managed to get out casually. Ah, the wonderful quality of having the Nice Guy label: you could talk with anybody, without giving any…additional feelings away.

Timothy smiled (a lovely, lovely grin!) "Err—thanks."

They made eye contact, smiling at each other.

For a moment, neither breathed. Flushed faces staring back at each other, waiting…

The hall had cleared out. Jonathon suddenly cleared his throat, a twitch in his fingers

A breath in, and


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan brushed against the inside of Timothy's wrist, lightly, quickly.

"I need to talk with you," he said kindly. He heard Timothy suck in a breath of air, a clearly confused expression across his face.

They slipped into an alcove in the remote hallway, unseen.

Timothy looked up at Jon, eyes clear, set, waiting for words or anything…

"Timothy…" he whispered out, suddenly quite certain in what he was saying, "I've only told my family, but…I want to tell you now.

"I'm gay.

"I want to tell you this because…you're just so…I've had feelings for you for awhile. I just…" Jonathan glanced at those lips…"I just wanted to tell you." He winced because of his own bluntness and awkwardness, simultaneously giving an easy grin.

Because he was finally here, with Timothy, a moment he had ached for throughout his high school years.

* * *

Timothy could hardly believe it. This was his dream, this was all some sort of sugary fog. And yet, here he was, here Jonathan was! His heart hammered to feel that boy's fingertips against his wrist, to hear his voice so close and soft and steady, so near him.

Something felt very strange about this. As though Ashton Kutcher would just pop out from some nearby locker in a bit, laughing out, "You just got PUNK'D!"

"Are you—being honest with me?" He forced out, incredulously.

There was a pause, and Jonathan stared right into his eyes, earnestly trying to convey…that he was speaking true?

"I know this all sounds so sudden…but I tell you," Jonathan whispered out, "I am."

He smiled, he let the smile wash over him.

This was all so wonderfully strange.

* * *

Jonathan took a step, so that his eyes rested mere inches from Timothy's.

"Timothy," he breathed out, "can I kiss you?" His whole body pounded, sweated. He felt confident…and yet, vulnerable. Magical…and yet, so very human, so very body and heart and blood.

Timothy nodded quickly, and Jon could hear the brunette's chest seize briefly.

His lips dove in, brushing against Timothy's ever so lightly. Jon pulled away for one long second, looking deeply, longingly into those deep brown eyes.

And then…bliss. Sighs. He tenderly cradled Timothy's hips, some euphoria leaping within him, around him

* * *

Then Timothy felt a warm, wet tongue sliding along his upper lip, beginning to dart in, circling against his own tongue. He tasted Jonathan (he never thought this moment could happen) he pressed against Jon harder, lips and body, warm and eager and hungry. Their stomachs hips legs thighs swayed jerked grinded against each other.

"Ohh," Timothy whimpered out, as Jonathan left his aching, pounding mouth to kiss along the jawline, lower and lower, tasting Timothy's neck as the boy's Adam's apple squirmed up and down in low groans of joy.

His shirt was crinkling up, as Jon's hands slid up Timothy's sides, sending a cold shiver down the boy's arching back. His skin was warm and soft.

His skin was warm and soft and Jonathan couldn't think didn't think and only let himself touch and feel and taste all of the loveliness of Timothy. The ridge of the ear, the tender neck behind the ear, the shoulders, the stomach, the chest, the back, the eyelids, the hips, the

* * *

Jonathan snapped out of his day-dreaming.

Oh, it happened. This wasn't a dream, or some idle imagined scene with dancing glittering jocks skipping in the background.

Just yesterday, they had been kissing.

If Jonathan had ever doubted his sexuality, he knew it now, thoroughly and wholly.

He let out a sugary sigh, as he thought of Timothy's short brown hair, so thick and…wonderful. Grin, easy and light

He broke up with Becky. This morning.

He wasn't ready to come out, and she didn't know about him, but he knew that he had to certainly break up with the girl. She wasn't crushed. She was always a crier but her eyes remained dry, dry…He simply needed to do it, anyway: this was the frail glimmer of clarity he found amidst all of these thoughts of….

Of him, of him sitting in the back of the class in those skinny jeans, of him smiling, of him speaking in that eloquent, low way of his in class, of him blushing as he bashfully played with the back of his hair….

Of him.

Jonathan hadn't seen him yet today, and this concern clouded his head. Of him.

* * *

Jonathan walked down the hallways, towards the cafeteria. He'd been talking to the teacher, so

The hallways were dim, clear. Gave room for more thought (overwhelming yet so tempting) and he was more or less meandering, given the fact he didn't feel all that hungry…well, not that kind of hungry…

A happy voice called to him from behind. "Jonathan!"

It was Timothy, elated and out-of-breath.

"Where does this put us?" Timothy asked, after the two just paused in silence, smiling at each other.

"I broke up with Becky," he offered.

Timothy broke out into a wide grin. "That's really all I need to know."

With that, Timothy stepped forward and cupped a side of Jonathan's warm face, carefully. Suddenly some realization came over his dark eyes.

"Wait—what if someone sees us?" As he said this he pulled his hand away, wondering.

"You know—it's okay. I don't mind." Jonathan whispered out, and he went in for a lovely, lovely kiss.

* * *

_My tongue, your tongue…the world mine._


End file.
